


Butterfly Kisses

by blahthelarry



Series: The Metamorphosis Series [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom!Harry, Boxing, Hand Jobs, Kidnapping, M/M, Ransom, Smut, Will Add More, bottom!Louis, boxer!louis, illegal boxing, it's mostly to drop a debt, kidnap, later there will be, mafia, sort of, thigh fucking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-05-05 09:20:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5370017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blahthelarry/pseuds/blahthelarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's been in this family for too long to not know what happens when his father comes home happy. It usually means there is someone dead in a ditch or man being tortured until he will surely die. Harry's seen far too many things to not know what will happen to him when he's kidnapped.</p><p>Being the son of Rennin Styles is the equivalent of being dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I: Spring

Over the top of Harry’s head, hanging from a thin branch, was a butterfly cocoon. He gazed up at it, laying on his back in the deserted part of campus, wondering how he was going to get out of going to dinner with his family. His father, Rennin Styles, insisted his only son attend to keep up appearances. It was just his father didn’t know he knew about the little set up he and Bethany’s father were planning.

Since they were little, Bethany and Harry had been close, best friends. But when they were old enough they understood why their fathers were very encouraging about their relationship.

It was a tough thing to grow up in a family that was devoted to its family run business; it was even tougher being the son of a mafia leader.

Normal childhood and normal family gatherings were foreign to Harry, seeming so distant from his world. When he was younger he was able to over look these slight changes, these differences that had set him from other children. He noticed on television that families didn’t operate like his family did. Fathers weren’t always invested in illegal activities and mothers were never as overprotected as his. What really set the family apart was the fact that the family business was never life threatening, at least, not as dangerous as theirs.

Anne, his mother, never kept it a secret between him and his sister. She told them when they were old enough to keep it to themselves and warned them this was something they couldn’t tell their closest of friends. Lucky for Harry, Bethany was in the same boat as he was.

Years later, nothing had changed since he was told about the true nature of his father’s “outings” and the boxing ring he owned. The dinners at home were always silent, much due to the fact his father was never there and his sister, Gemma, liked to text rather than talk. His sister didn’t seem to have a problem in rolling around in the illegal money his father supplied to them, basking in the joy of being able to shop until her heart was content. Harry guessed it was a perk of the business; they didn’t have to worry about money or not having what they desired like other children. If you asked him, they were spoiled and pampered.

It didn’t help that he had been raised by nannies when his mother had been dragged into his father’s affairs.

That was the one things that always made him upset. His mother had nothing to do with any of it, but somehow, when he was just starting kindergarten, she got pulled into the system, put in shooting range and almost got killed because the stupid “job” his father was running.

But there was nothing he could do.

So, while his father was killing people, he watched the butterfly cocoon swing back and forth on the tree branch.

He was content in just watching it for the rest of the day, not caring if his father would be mad at him when he got home and might potentially set the house on fire while throwing a huge fit over how selfish his son was. Nothing could have made him care less about how much shit he was in; facing his father wasn’t the worst thing he had seen in his lifetime and probably wouldn’t ever be.

A shadow fell upon him, blocking the sunlight that had been streaming through the trees, and pulled him back from his day dream. His eyes squinted up at the figure and sighed when the familiar blond hair and blue eyes came into his vision.

“Has he shit his pants yet? I’m sure he’s dandy as ever.”

The figure didn’t laugh.

Harry tried again.

“Helen Keller walks into a bar. Then into a table and then a chair.”

There was still no response.

“Okay, I’m getting up. Don’t rush to help me.” His sarcastic humor was ignored.

Niall Horan had started working for his father a little over a year ago. He had been fresh out of high school when he had been thrown into the ring. It only took two rounds for him to break his nose and fracture his arm. Rennin knew the kid wasn’t boxing material and yet he had let him fight. After they pulled him out the ring, they fixed him up and Rennin offered him a job.

Ever since then he’d been following Harry, making sure he didn’t kill himself or get kidnapped. At first he didn’t really mind. He just went about his day, going to class and hanging out with friends. Nothing had changed because when he was in high school Niall could only wait outside in the parking lot. However, when he got to university, he could follow him from class to class.

The more Niall was seen with him the more attention was brought to him. Where as in high school he had been named an outcast, which was fine by him, he didn’t have to do as much work to blend in. But when he got to university he attracted all sorts of people. They came in crowds, wanting to be his friend or their significant other. He turned them down of course because when they found out who his father was they wouldn’t think of him as the same person.

Things changed when people found out about him. His sister knew exactly what that felt like and dug deep into herself. She put on a mask and pretended to be someone else, someone whose father was a good loyal man, a man who was the complete opposite of Rennin.

At university, Niall stood out like a sore thumb with his expensive clothing and blank stare. Though he looked to be around his age, Niall acted decades older than any of the kids hanging out on campus. The more time he spent with Harry’s father, the more he started acting like him.

“He’s been searching for you,” Niall finally said.

Harry dusted the dirt and grass from his jeans, huffing when his hair fell into his eyes. “Correction. His men have been searching for me. That damned old man wouldn’t dare sweat over me.”

It was sad, but it was true. Harry would never hold it against him though, no matter how much it pissed him off. In his head, Rennin had his reasons for what he did, for the things he had done in the past. All of it didn’t make up for how shitty it was.

Niall frowned. “Rennin knows what’s best.”

“I’m not arguing with you today.”

“He’s worried.”

“Not listening.”

“Harry, give him a chance. You’re being stubborn.” Niall put his hand on his shoulder, but he ignored it. The more he listened the more it got to him. He learned long ago to drown it out, turn it into background noise; if he did that then it couldn’t distract him or make him angry. Then it had been a great solution, but as time went on, ignoring Niall’s pleading, everyone else pleading for him to listen, it got harder to ignore the thing right in front of his face.

Maybe he was being stubborn. If he could just see through his father’s eyes then maybe he could understand. But until that time came, he would just not care.

A black car was parked outside the main building, drawing attention from a group of students sitting at a park bench. Harry hoped none of them knew him and also hoped they wouldn’t become too enthralled into their suspicious behavior. Well, it wasn’t too suspicious. For gods sake, he was only getting a ride home.

They reached the car and when Harry opened the door he said, “Niall, do you understand the risks I have to take each day?”

Niall stared, surprised at his bold words. “Well, I know it isn’t easy.”

“Everyday I have to pretend to be normal, pretend like my father hasn’t murdered or sold drugs in the last twenty-four hours.” He shook his head, seething and biting his lip. “The day my father dies is the day I’m actually able to be myself. Do you know how fucked up that is?”

His body shook. The older one of the two didn’t have time to react; Harry was already slamming the car door shut.

<><><>

They arrived half pass eight, a complete thirty minutes after the dinner had been scheduled. While Niall drove him back to his prison, Harry watched the small houses go by in a blur. He thought if he prepared at the right moment he would be able to jump out of the car and limp his way to safety. But they were already pulling up the driveway before he could build up the courage, a feeling of missed opportunities hitting him in the face. That’s what his entire life felt like most days; a big waste of opportunity.

Their home was large as it was gorgeous. Windows as tall as ten feet bordered each side, welcoming sunlight into the spacious living and dining rooms. A fenced in pool could be seen in the back yard, open now that the snow had melted and flowers started to blossom.

This house, Harry thought, would satisfy anyone. Everything about it was astounding and beautiful; a structure that could take any man or woman’s breath away. It was too bad Harry’s breath couldn’t be stolen at the sight of it. Only thing that was brought to his surface was a longing to high tail it back to campus where he could lay in wait for the world to end.

He needed to be a good son; a good son like his mother had raised him, hoping he could make something of himself, even though there was no need to. He had the money to go to uni; he didn’t need to work very hard to get good grades and his father’s connections were vast enough to get him any job he wanted.

As long as his father approved of it.

It took him a moment to calm his nerves. His hands shook and his knees bounced uncontrollably. He had to force himself to open the car door and step out onto the pavement driveway. Each step he took sent a pain up through his body. Niall was just behind him, following silently like he was trained to do.

The pain didn’t stop, not even when the front door opened and his sister appeared, dressed in a red satin gown and her hair curled.

“Keep your mouth shut tonight and you might still have your balls.”

He didn’t even flinch. “I’m sure father will be happier to hear me than you.”

Gemma stepped back to let him through, a frown working its way onto her face. “Where were you anyway? Took them longer this time.”

“Didn’t leave campus,” he shrugged. The truth came slipping out of his mouth more easily than he had expected. “I was disappointed too. Thought I had a good race going.”

At that, Niall huffed. Harry was about to laugh, but Gemma covered his mouth and put a finger to her lips. Her eyes skidded over to the entryway to the dining room and back to him before she shook her head.

The message was clear to him.

He was stalling, waiting until the last possible moment to step into his father’s gaze; he knew it too. He settled down into a serious demeanor and walked into the dining room.

Five chairs out of ten were occupied by residents showing extreme differences in emotion: one angry, one worried, one impatient, and two uncomfortable. If the cause of anger and worry had not been him, Harry might have been humored. The situation reminded him too much like a comedy, not his life.

Though he couldn’t take any of it serious, he tried to as best as he could.

“Mother,” he greeted, bending down to kiss Anne’s cheek. She smelled the same as always, a hint of rose; nothing had changed. He didn’t know why he had thought things would be different from when he had left and when he would return. It was kind of a disappointment.

“Father.” He didn’t look at Rennin who sat just beside Anne.

Gemma sat down beside their mother, Harry beside her. Across from him was Bethany; she smiled at him and he smiled back, somewhat relieved she was here. It gave him a sort of confidence he didn’t have when she wasn’t around. His father was a hard person to get along, many knew that. He liked to be in control and it was a hard fact to face for Harry, who also liked to be in control. But when company was over, guests who could influence his father’s business, the heat between them toned down.

The flame, however, was not completely burned out, only tamed.

“Glad you could join us, Harry.” Harry looked up from his plate. Rennin sat at the end of the table, sitting tall and reeking power. Harry wanted to sneer and had to bite down the instinct to bare his teeth.

“Pleasure is all mine, Father.” Rennin tensed, but brushed it off, signaling for the dinner to be served.

The food was served, Rennin turning to Bethany’s father, Chandler Hill, so they could speak about their affairs. Harry found it odd they would speak about such private things in the open, but he guessed it didn’t really matter. The staff wouldn’t dare cross the line and betray Mr. Styles or it might cost them their life.

Suddenly, the food in front of him didn’t look so appealing. With a frown working over his lips, he pushed the mashed potatoes and steak around on the plate. It was only when his father called his name that he actually paid attention to their conversation.

“Yes?” He must have said ruder than he had expected because Gemma kicked his foot from underneath the table. He gave her glare but remained focused on his father’s frame.

Rennin wiped his mouth with the corner of a napkin, his finger curling around the fabric. A silver coated ring fitted snug on his pinkie. “I’ve decided it’s time you learn about what will eventually be yours.”

Harry almost choked. “What?”

Rennin raised an eyebrow, giving him a long hard look. In a much lower tone he said, “The Emblem, boy. It’s gone on long enough, you running around. The family needs you here, working in the business and learning the ropes.”

“Ren, I thought we talked about this.” Anne touched Rennin’s hand, but there was no response from Rennin. “Harry’s going to finish school and Gemma too.”

Rennin’s grip on the napkin got tighter. “Tonight. He’ll start his training tonight.”

Silence fell over the dinner table. It was Anne who made the first move, leaving the table, her plate nearly untouched. Her footsteps echoed through the quiet house, each step tearing at Harry’s control.

“Well, about the Calder investment.”

And just like that, Harry’s father was back to talking about business affairs and investments. Harry wondered how he could push everything out of his atmosphere with such ease.

By the time they had all finished their meal, Harry was tired and spent from listening to Rennin and Mr. Hall talk about what seemed to him like nonsense. The look on Bethany’s face told him she agreed.

It took them no time to rush from the dining room and outside after his father dismissed them. Gemma was no doubtfully leaving to go to a bar or crash at a friend’s. The longest he’s seen her stay here since she entered university was when their father ordered her.

Bethany laughed freely when they made it to the garden in the back yard, a little ways from the swimming pool.

“They’re crazy, aren’t they? I swore your dad was going to pop a vein he was so mad at you,” she said. Her feet twirled, sending her skirt into a flutter. She stopped and paused, looking at him over her shoulder. “I hope you don’t get hurt. Boys like you aren’t made out for this stuff, you know?”

“I’m not weak,” he laughed. A minute passed, their laughter dying off. Bethany sat down on a bench, humming while staring up at the night sky. Harry looked up as well, but he couldn’t see what she liked about it. It was dark, no stars, and he felt a chill go through him. Where she found a comforting sense in it, he found a lonely and dark grip.

She turned and said, “After university, what’re going to do?”

Harry shrugged. He hadn’t given a thought to what he would do after this. University was really the only reason he had stayed behind to live with his parents. Money was a hard thing to keep a hold off, especially when he was spoiled his entire life. Rennin was right about one thing; Harry wouldn’t know responsibility if it hit him in the face.

“Something, I guess.” Bethany snorted. He punched her arm. “Hey! Come on, you can’t possibly know what you’re going to do.”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” She giggled when he poked her side.

“And what is that?”

Her grin couldn’t have possibly gotten any bigger. With a glassy eyed look, she stared out into the garden, the moon bathing her in its light.

“I’m going to fall in love.”


	2. II: Spring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. I thought I uploaded the second chapter, but I guess not :/ 
> 
> Sorry if you've been waiting.

_Chapter Two_

Harry couldn't stop thinking about what Bethany had said. Foolish, he thought. Her dream and honesty was nothing but foolishness. No matter what she did, her father would never allow her to do such a thing and neither would Harry!

His hand smacked down on the car seat.

"Stop the car!"

The car was still in motion when he kicked the car door open. Of all the things she could want for herself in this life, that's what she chooses. It was impossible and the both of them knew it. And Harry thought his wanting was selfish and childish. This was just like Bethany, always reaching for the most inconceivable things. It was like she wanted to be denied of them or tortured that she could never really have what she yearned for.

The air was suffocating and all he wanted was to get out of here. Away from the car and away from the big city.

But he couldn't. 

His father, Rennin, was expecting him at The Emblem in less than twenty minutes. This time he would not let Harry slide on by. He made his point at the dinner this evening.

One last gulp of fresh air and a pinch to his arm, he climbed back into the black car and let himself to be driven to hell. 

Bethany couldn't be blamed though. She was young, like Harry, and had no real conception of the world around her. They were very much alike, so much so it kind of terrified him. The thing Harry would do and would say to get his way, he had no doubt she would do the same exact thing. But the environments they were raised in were drastically different. Where he had no freedom, she had wiggle room, and where he was respected, she was put down.

In the world that his father had built, the roles in which they had to play were nothing alike and it was based on this that he made his conclusion. The only way for anyone, not just him and not just Bethany, could ever escape from danger was to destroy the world in which they were caged.

The city lights grew brighter, casting dark shadows that threatened to eat him. Beside him, he imagined his father whispering, "When I die it'll be up to you to run this place. Responsibility to take care of this family will be yours." 

Anger, pure anger, burned inside of him. To think that man had the nerve to tell him, say to his face, that this would be his problem. This empire Rennin had built would be dumped on him and no one would even be brave enough to lift it from his shoulders. Not his mother or his sister because he would have to take care of them. He hated it. He didn't hate them, but he hated the fucking system they lived by. They couldn't and wouldn't even stand up to it, not if given the chance.

Already fueled by anger, the sleepiness was washed away. He felt energized, ready to take on whatever his father threw at him. His hand clenched and he looked out of the black tinted window. Buildings passed him by, all built in the same structure. Elegant and sleazy all the same. He could deny the feeling of home, but it was all clear to himself. The more he slashed at the image of a corrupt but perfect world he lived in, the more he couldn't get enough of it.

He wanted to be disgusted, gagging at the thought that he lived in such filth. But wherever he ran, to a different city or a different country, he would never forget the way he looked at the palace Rennin had slaved over: Power.

The next time the car stopped it was in front of that very palace. Nothing about it jumped out at him. It looked like all the other buildings on the street: run down and dark. He guessed it was the air or the atmosphere that pulled people in. The first floor was a bar, a mask to cover up what was on the next level down. Underground was the boxing ring and under that was where his father kept his "office". 

Every level was a step further to hell. The temperature would rise and his heart would speed up. The blood would pump faster in his veins. He'd never admit he was nervous when he visited, though he's only gone down to the boxing ring once. It was back when his father kept him away from the business which lead him to always wanting to know more. His curiosity was greater than his self-control and caused him a lot of trouble when he was younger.

He gravitated to the front door, leaving the car behind as if nothing else mattered. If he turned and left he would surely be chewed out by his father the next time he saw him. The best thing he could do was simply do what he asked, against all his will and every fiber in his body. 

Inside The Emblem, the air was thick. Alcohol seeped into his pores and wafted into his nose. When he opened his mouth he could taste it on his tongue. Lightly, barely noticeable, but it still made him pull a sour face.

He was heading to the back doors where the stairs to the next level would be when a hand caught his arm. 

"Hello, lovely." The hand belonged to a woman, maybe two or three years older than him, with wavy brown hair and light brown eyes. She laughed at his surprised face. "Guess you don't come here often if you're not used to being hit on."

She pondered her words. "Or go anywhere in fact."

"I'm not here to be hit on," he said before he could stop himself. His words were rude without him meaning them to be.

"Ouch," she laughed. "I didn't know the kitten had claws."

He pursed his lips and glanced behind the woman, looking for a way out. The doors were a few feet away from where they were standing and being pushed together by the strong current of people.

"Excuse me." The hand she still had on his arm slipped away, freeing him. He was getting more anxious each second that went by. His father would be waiting for him no doubt. If he made him wait too long it would be no good for him. He wanted to piss the man off, not get himself killed.

The woman must have not sensed his cold demeanor; she was following him closely from behind and he wanted nothing more than to push her back from where she had come. He had no idea what he had done to pull him towards him, but he couldn't be angry at her, not towards a woman. What kind of person would he be if he did?

Though there was something familiar about her that just struck a chord with him. Her face flashed through his mind, setting off something inside of his, a memory perhaps. He couldn't pin her right away, but he was sure he had seen her somewhere. Was she famous? Did he know her in person? If he did then she didn't remember if, unless she was playing clueless.

His footsteps almost stopped and it was then that he realized the woman wasn't following him any longer.

Right, he thought. She doesn't know me and I don't know her.

Strange as it was, he had other business to attend to. Appeasing his father came at the top of his list, the one he was suppose to be following though he liked to dwell into other things. That's how he liked it and that was how he was going to keep it as long as he could. But if things came to push and shove, he wouldn't doubt it for a second that he would change his mind. On one hand he wanted to pull his father down from his thrown and on the other he wanted nothing to do with the man; even touching him sounded foul and disgusting.

Having gotten rid of any decision to go back and ask what that woman's problem was, Harry walked up to the back doors and knocked firmly. They were a series of knocks he had learned from sneaking in to follow his father. Little did he know when he was at the naive age of sixteen his father was playing along and let him wander and sneak about. It changed once he was sent off to Uni and sneaking around wasn't his idea of fun anymore. Something he once did to bother his father turned into something he hated to do because it was the thing his father wanted. 

He laughed at the thought that his younger self would be ecstatic to gain access to the second floor of The Emblem. If he had known it was just a big plan to play him into his father's hands, he wouldn't have done it. A simple turn of tables could make all the difference in the world, a difference he wanted to stay away from but was dragged into.

The doors opened, revealing a bulky man, armed with not only one gun but two. Harry wasn't much of a gun expert, could only name a pistol and a shotgun and somehow knew what they looked like; those were only a few of the reason why his father probably wanted to get him accustomed to the ways of his kingdom. Having a clueless son was one thing but a clueless heir?

It was like leaving a blind man to sew your wounds.

The man didn't spare him a glance, didn't seem to move either. It had been a while since he ventured here, but the sounds and the smells were the same as he had remembered. There was a certain feeling in the air; it circled around him, engulfing his slender frame and threatened to gobble him up. If he wasn't careful he was sure he could get lost in this world he had entered. All that work struggling to become his own person, a waste to a silly feeling. 

He walked through the doorway, remembering the last time he did this, the memories coming back at a fast speed. It was like deja vu, but darker and ill lighted. The sounds weren't as loud and the feeling wasn't the same as it was now. Everything was enhanced unlike it was in his memories. It must have been because they had been pushed back to the darkest area of his mind. He simply didn't want to remember the last time he was here; it wasn't all fun in games when he went exploring. Curiosity killed the cat was the phrase to describe it.

There was no reason to wait around; he knew where he was going and he knew who was waiting for him. The dark hallway lead to another door and behind that door he could hear the shouts of men, some women, but most were men. A light perfume of sweat and blood filled the air, drifting from underneath the door. This one was not guarded; he would only need to twist the knob and open the door to reveal the mysterious room from behind it. However, it was no longer a mystery to him. Since he discovered one of his father's secrets it wasn't so fun anymore. The spark had blown out and he was once again submerged in the want to feed his curiosity.

He needed more danger and more mystery. Another thing he loathed his father for. Living in a family like his, one where people fed off power and money, he only blended right in with the rest of the lot. 

So, he wasn't surprised from what he saw when he finally eased the door open. The smell of blood grew stronger as well as the sweat. It was rushing around him, engulfing his entire body, throwing him back and forth. He felt if he stayed here long enough he might smell like the mixture for the rest of his life, always giving off the slight fragrance. It would be the worst thing because the smell wasn't all that pleasant. He didn't understand how this many people, almost a hundred, could stay in here for so long just watching a lousy match.

Yes, that was right. A match. This was the bloody fucking underground boxing ring his father held so dear to him.

"Your father is waiting." Harry turned, facing the blond lad with a blank stare.

"I'm not surprised," he said with no emotion. All he could feel was boredom. This wasn't exactly how he wanted to spend his night; he had other things to do, homework to do and tests to study for. However, he had a feeling he wouldn't need to do those things any longer if his father's plan succeeded.

His mother would never approve of his father pulling him out of University. She had always had high hopes that they would escape the family business; he guessed her dreams were once again being squashed for Rennin's appeasement. It wouldn't be the last either.

Niall lead him once again to another black door. The yelling and the fight drowned out once they entered the next level of the establishment. He didn't know how long Niall had been waiting here for him. It could have been an hour or only ten minutes, but it made him uneasy that the man would do it just because he was told. He wasn't so naive to think that Niall hadn't done other more gruesome things for his father. The things that went on in the business were deeper than what he could imagine, but it still struck a chord in him to think that this almost innocent like person could be so heartless and emotionless.

But the same thing could be said about him, though he wouldn't say he looked too innocent. What with most of the school campus knowing his family's reputation, he was positive everyone assumed he killed for fun. It was a better spin on the truth in his mind. He'd rather be a killer than anything his father wanted him to be.

They soon entered a calm and quiet room, almost dead silent compared to the other two levels. Harry could tell the room was for business only. It was a whisper kind of place where rough housing was not allowed and respect was at its highest. Sitting in the center of this well minded room was Rennin, talking to a man Harry did not recognize. He assumed it was a future business partner or someone Rennin had done business with in the past and somehow retained good connections with. 

Rennin took a drink from the glass in his hand. Looking over the brim, his eyes locked on Harry's tall, lanky frame. With one sweep of his hand, he beckoned him over. Niall stood where he was, not daring to move an inch from the door, knowing that it wasn't in his place.

Rennin swallowed and the unknown man's attention turned to Harry. "This is my son, Harry. He's seeing how The Emblem works. I thought it would be a good idea for you to meet. I'm hoping he could meet Louis as well."

The man nodded his head as if he were thinking. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt, but he won't be available until after the match."

"Of course," Rennin said, taking another drink. "I should know about interfering with business, shouldn't I?"

They both laugh and Harry feels uneasy when he doesn't know the name of the man. By the looks of the place the next match hasn't started and this man was Louis' coach? He wasn't familiar with how boxing worked but he was sure that a trainer would be needed or something like that.

The man must see Harry's unease because he reaches over and offers his hand for a handshake. "Sorry, mate, Liam's the name. Should have properly introduced myself in the first place."

"It's nothing." The shake is stiff on Harry's part. He can't help it though, not with his father's eyes on him, almost waiting for him to screw up something. And if he's being quite frank, it won't be long before he does make a mess of the situation.

"Ah, it's about to start. Shall we go boys?"

Rennin stands and waits for the other two to follow. Harry begins to figit with the insides of his pockets. He can't stand the noise, though it's small and barely there. It must be his father's watchful eyes, but that had never bothered him before. He's never been so nervous in his life. Yet, when they make it back up to the high floor, where the ring is set up and the noise is louder, he feels more settled and more at ease.

The way his feeling changes is great and almost knocks him off his feet. He has no idea what it could be until he takes one look at the ring and sees who must be Louis.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wattpad: ijakegirl
> 
> I update there first.


	3. III: Spring

_Chapter Three_

His gut is telling him to bolt. Right now. Piercing blue eyes are watching him, but that can't be. It's too dark for him to honestly tell him apart from the others in the crowd and even if he could he couldn't possibly know who he is. His mother made sure that his profile and background was hidden away from the public since he was born. She wouldn't be careless to let someone like this boy-this man-know who he was.

Yet, he was convinced those eyes were searching only for his. With a cough, he looked down at his hands, wondering if he could truly see him. There was no way in telling though for when he looked back up at the ring the eyes were looking somewhere else. 

He had the wrong impression. That must be the answer. He couldn't shake the feeling though that there was something more to it. Pushing the thoughts away, he focused on his father's voice. He was talking to Liam about how the betting was going and if Louis had gotten his share yet.

Harry tried his best not to look back at the blue-eyed wonder. It was hard not to, but somehow he succeeded. Jeez. He only knew the man's name and he was already developing a stalker complex. He could hear Gemma's laugh in the background of his mind. She would think this was the funniest thing in the world. She probably wouldn't be able to wait and tell their father his new found secret.

It would seem Harry had a thing for blue eyes.

"Harry." 

He turned and his father beckoned him. There was no question as to what he should do. Without a second thought, he obeyed the silent command and followed. Inside he was ashamed that he was doing everything his father said to do like a dog, but he couldn't see anyway around it. This had become his life. No. This was his life, ever since he came from his mother's womb. It was almost as if his father had planned to conceive him to train.

What was the good in this? What could he focus on besides the bad? The light at the end of tunnel looked bleak and he felt even more hopeless. Cheering began around them as a bell was rung. Harry hadn't even noticed that the match had started while they walked closer to the ring. From where they were he could only see the top of the fighters' heads. Louis was the one he was zoned in on, his blue shorts bright in the dark room. Though it was quieter here than the bar, the volume was building. It was a slow climax as Louis swung and missed and his opponent struck him in the face.

They finally made it close to the front of the ring, a few feet away from being right up against it. It felt too close in Harry's opinion, but he couldn't say that. With his father's intense gaze upon him, he felt like he couldn't do much of anything. Was that how everyone felt when around him? It must be true then, that Rennin could strike fear into anyone he looked at. It wasn't like Harry had his doubts about it. Most of the rumors about his fathers that floated around were true. The man didn't brag, but he was all about the things that he'd succeeded.

A frown worked its way onto Harry's face. He tried hard to disguise it, but he still feared that his father had seen it. If he had, he only hoped that he wouldn't mention it. Or worse, beat him for it. The last thing he needed right now was to have Rennin even more on his case. The man wanted him to take over the fucking mafia and his kingdom. What more could he want from him? To kill his arch-nemesis?

Did he even have one?

He was about to think further about it when the crowd cheered loudly once more. Unlike the times before, this cheer was out of control and the men around them jumped and hollered. Quite dazed at the sudden change, he looked to the ring and was a little baffled.

Louis stood in the center of the ring, his fists raised. Lying face first was Louis' opponent. When Harry got to looking, he realized with shock that the man must have weighed over three-hundred pounds. Louis didn't look like he could harm a butterfly let alone a man doubling his size.

And wasn't this only the first round?

"As always Payne, you've trained him well." Rennin opened his coat pocket and pulled out a neat stack of bills. He handed it to Liam.

"Give Louis my condolences."

Liam nodded. "Will do."

Rennin stood from his chair and filtered through the increasing crowd. There wasn't anything needed to be said.

Harry followed.

<><><>

After that night, Harry couldn't stop thinking about what he'd seen. The man with brown hair and blue eyes-his name was Louis and he was the most beautiful creature Harry had ever seen. But what had him halting those thoughts were the questions he kept asking. Why was Louis working at the ring? Was it that he needed money or that he only wanted? Could it be perhaps that he wanted power like Rennin?

It puzzled Harry to think about it, so he tried not to. A day passed and his father introduced him more and more to the rest of his followers. Harry came to The Emblem once more to see his father's office which wasn't much of anything except a desk, a leather chair, and a computer. Since the first days of Rennin's start, he'd stopped doing every on paper and liked to document everything on a portable flash drive which he kept secured around his neck. It seemed a little odd that everything Rennin had worked for be physically and literally be tied to him, but Harry didn't laugh. Serious matters were not to be laughed about.

Except for maybe when he was lying in bed and he felt the world was crashing down around him. Then again, he also cried after he made fun of his father, so maybe he wasn't better off.

At school the day seemed to drag along. He didn't have many classes that day, but he felt like the hour long lectures were five times as long and were repeating the same things over and over. He couldn't think straight, not when all he could focus on were either his father's demands or Louis' eyes. Both were at the same levels of distractions, which wasn't a good thing for Harry at all. If he could choose, it wouldn't be a surprise if he chose to think about Louis' eyes and how powerful he'd seemed in the ring. It only troubled him to think that such a soft looking person could be placed in such a dangerous place. But he didn't know why he was feeling so bad about it. He wasn't the one forcing Louis to do anything and it didn't seem like Rennin was either.

It looked like a business agreement between the two, even if Liam was the man they went through.

Harry wanted to think that he had control over his own mind, but he knew that he didn't. Rennin had planted things in his mind since he was a young boy and he couldn't decide if some things were his true beliefs or if they were his father's. And there was Louis. They hadn't even met and he was already thinking of what he could say so that he wouldn't look like a total idiot.

What good would any of it be? In the end, he was Rennin's son and his successor. It was brilliant how he'd implanted him with the things that he liked most. In some way, he would be in charge through Harry, even when he was dead.

When he was back home, laying on his bed and staring up at the ceiling, he wondered if there was a way out of this life he was born into. He thought about how he wished he had wings so that he could jump out his window and fly away, never turning back to see what his families' faces would be. Bethany would be alone, but she'd be happy for him. She knew more about the world than he did because she had found a way around her father's eyes once in a while. 

Rennin always found him in the end, even when he fought and ran as far as he could. He was always dragged back to the place he was running from.

There was also that time he had tried to slit his wrists. He'd seen it tons of times in movies and on the internet. They said it would make him feel better, like he had control over himself. No matter how many times he had cut and no matter how deep the blade went, it never changed anything. Rennin was more than a scar or a blade. He was the center of the universe and he could change the rules when he wanted to. Hurting himself wasn't going to do anything for him.

But he'd tried again and again. Not even the scars had lasted because Rennin wouldn't want that. 

He'd cried for hours in the bathroom. Why weren't the scars staying? Why were they disappearing?

He didn't want to be healed. He wanted to be free.

<><><>

"Harry, are you okay?"

Harry looks up from his phone. Bethany's looking back at him over the top of her soda. The straw's in between her fingers. It's bent and littered with teeth marks. He hates it when she does that when they share.

He sets his phone down on the table and takes a sip from his own soda. "Nothing to worry about. Gemma's mad again because I took off."

Gemma's been a little antsy these past few days and he can't figure out why. Nothing has happened so far that he's noticed except their mother staying out later. He frowned. Was that it? Was Rennin putting her into danger again and had Gemma worried? It wouldn't be the first, but he hoped it wasn't true. 

"There is something wrong!" 

"What? No. I already said it wasn't anything." She gave him a look, but he pretended like he didn't see it.

"If it wasn't anything you wouldn't be checking it every minute. This isn't like you," she said. Her lips turned down. "You know we never get to spend time together out in the real world."

When she said it like that it made it sound like they were locked up in their rooms. It also made him feel worse about taking away their time together.

"Sorry. I won't look at it again."

She reached out and touched his hand. "It's alright. I understand."

But she didn't. The things she said most of the time were only things she said to make him feel better. Little white lies, words she spoke to hide up the ugly truth. He wanted to cry when her fingers tightened around his. If things had been different, maybe he could have loved her. It wouldn't change much, but it would have made things easier knowing she was a little more than his best friend. A companion, someone he could tie his life to.

Did he really want to do that? He was already attached to this position, would he really want to make her live through it too?

Answer was no.

They finished their drinks and paid. It was still light outside when they exited the restaurant and the warm breeze swept their hair back from their face. Harry laced their hands together and lead them down the street. The sun started to set. Pinks, yellows, and orange colors filtered across Bethany's face. When she caught him staring, she beamed back at him and he thought he was staring into the sun.

She reminded him of someone before, someone who had taken his breath away and who had made his heart skip.

"Have you worked out that whole falling in love thing?" He still couldn't believe that that's what she was going to do with her life. It wasn't bad by all means, but it was going to be harder than hard to find approval from her father. He was still trying to marry her off to him.

Harry hadn't been thinking when he'd asked. It was something that had just slipped out. He was smiling when he looked down at her, but when her eyes met his, there were tears streaming down her face.

He wiped one away. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

She licked her lips and shook her head. His hand fell away from her face. "Nothing. I'm wondering if Dad's going to yell at me."

He probably would if he didn't know she was with him. It seemed that it was okay if she did anything as long as Harry was by her side. The man treated him more like he was her bodyguard than her actual best friend. It was interesting, but annoying all the same.

She took her hand once more. Her skin was soft and warm. It comforted him when he was at his breaking point. Tomorrow he would see to more of his father's business and though he hated it, it had to be done. He'd wear the mask his father had created for him and do as he was told just so that he could live a somewhat normal life. Going to school was now his only escape except for when he was with Bethany. 

But when he graduated there would be no more excused. There would be no more running away.

They're turning a corner when a black figure appears in front of them. Bethany jumps a little and her hold on Harry's hand tightens. He's startled as well, but he doesn't think anything of it. He continues walking and just when they pass by, the man's arm shoots out and pulls Harry back by the arm.

"What the-" Harry was about to throw a punch when he notices that the man is wearing a mask. He swallows and backs up a little. "Hey, um. We don't want any trouble."

It's a generic thing to say, but he doesn't know what else to say. He holds up his hands, showing the man that he doesn't have anything to fight him with and slides in front of Bethany. He hopes the man doesn't see the protective gesture and he hopes the man isn't going to hurt them.

Money. He wants money.

He moves to get his wallet. "I've got money. Let me get it."

How much? Two hundred? Three hundred? He's sure he's got at least five hundred on him, just like his father told him to carry. Should he let the man know he's got that much on him. What if he asks for more thinking that he's a rich kid with tons of money? Which isn't untrue, but he doesn't want this man know anything about him.

"I don't want your money."

Harry back up even more, making sure Bethany was close to him. That's not what he wanted to hear. 

The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife. He held it up to his face and inched forward. 

"We haven't done anything." Harry could feel Bethany shaking behind him. Her hands were clutching the back of his shirt and her sobs were growing louder.

The man stopped and pointed the knife directly at Harry.

"Harry Styles."

Harry thought he might faint. "What?"

"Come on lad. You. I want you, not money."

"No!"

Bethany shot out from behind him and ran straight forward. The man jumped to the side and hit her on the back of the head. She fell to the ground with a sharp crack. 

Harry rushed to her side, but before he could check to see if she was okay, the man pulled him up by his shirt and held the knife to his neck.

"She'll be fine. Let's go."

The last he saw before his head was covered with a bag was Bethany's limp body.

 

**Author's Note:**

> wattpad: ijakegirl
> 
> Happy Holidays!


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